Cuts 'n Crosses by jdifrans1
by MeetTheMateContest
Summary: Sometimes love rides a motorcycle and wears a leather cut. Sometimes love finds us when we least expect it.


**Title:** Cuts 'n Crosses

 **Summary:** Sometimes love rides a motorcycle and wears a leather cut. Sometimes love finds us when we least expect it.

 **Pairing:** Emmett/Rose

 **Rating:** T

 **Word count:** 1,459

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Church. Red doors, stained glass, a cross, the familiar smell of wooden pews and candles - they all felt like home. Even the ones without floors, pulpits, or electricity still gave me that old feeling of belonging. The feeling of being a part of something bigger than myself. Something eternal.

I smile and take a bulletin from the elderly woman just inside the front door and look around for a crowd, to find the pastor.

Ushers greet me with hand shakes and smiles as I make my way to the man in charge. He's tall and wearing a suit jacket, but no tie. I look down at my soft, knee length lace sun dress and gold sandals and hope I'm not overdressed.

"Excuse me, Pastor Cullen?"

"Yes! You must be Ms. Hale." He excuses himself and shakes my hand. "We're so glad you could come tell us a bit about how God is working in Africa."

"Thank you for having me and for your support." I try to convey how thankful I am. "Without your church behind me, I couldn't help the women and families that need me. I'm so very honored to be here."

"My dear, the honor is all ours." The sound of motors revving grabs my attention and Pastor Cullen chuckles. "We may not be quite the kind of church you're used to." He winks and goes on to explain when I'll be asked to come forward and shows me the room I can go to after the service to answer questions.

I take a seat and watch the pews fill in. Young, old, some dressed up but most in leather vests or jackets, everyone settles in and gives their attention to the people singing praise songs in front. I stand to sing and hear heavy footsteps behind me, much heavier than one would normally hear in church. I think of construction workers in big clunky boots. Metal clanking confuses me even further and I fight the temptation to turn around and see who is approaching. The footsteps stop directly behind me and every hair on my body rises as a tingle runs down my spine, making me shiver. I'm suddenly only aware of _him_ \- I hear every time he shuffles his feet or moves whatever part of his body is wearing leather, and his hushed yet warm greeting to those around him. It smells like he brought the road and fumes with him but it's pleasant; it fits.

As the congregation starts to sing, I place my hand on my chest to steady myself. The deepest, smoothest, most convicted voice I've ever heard comes from _him_. My eyes water and I can hardly sing a note, I'm so overwhelmed. My throat feels tight and my heart beats faster with every word he sings. I close my eyes, bow my head, and beg God to please help me keep it together. I'm here to raise money to teach women a skill, to turn their lives and their families' lives around - not to be falling for some guy I've not even seen.

I've been in love, engaged, had a life planned and was ready to live my dream of being the preacher's wife, with a pew full of kids listening to his every sermon from the front row. I supported and loved Royce, pushed away his advances to keep us pure, helped him study, and put my life on hold for ours.

Only to be betrayed. Only to see him knock up someone else and blame me for not meeting his needs. Watched our church turn its back on me to support the golden boy-pastor-to-be and the woman he chose over me. My life was thrown into chaos, and suddenly I had to choose between staying and dealing with it every day or starting over.

I knew that God had a plan for me, if I would simply follow, so I did. I was destined for a different life, one of service and giving. My life is full of so much love from women who simply need hope. And I feel complete - I didn't think I was missing anything until now.

We're told to greet one another and I shake hands with everyone in front of me and beside me before finally turning around. Black leather, silver, and dimples are all I see. I watch him hug people in the aisle, calling all everyone brother or sister and asking how they are. This is clearly his home and I feel like a peeping tom, like an uninvited lurker watching from the outside - but I can't look away. I'm captivated by his charisma, the way I can hear his warm deep voice over the hum of those gathered this morning, the way he listens to everyone like they have something important to say. Even the little old ladies in their Sunday best have his full attention and excitement.

He turns to me with a big welcoming smile and reaches for my hand. "Hi! I'm Emmett. You must be Rosalie. It's great to meet you." He lets go of my hand but doesn't stop talking long enough for me to get a word in. "Do you think I could talk to you for a bit later? The Lord has really placed on me the need to volunteer, to step out. And I'd love to help you in your mission. I really respect what you've been doing."

Listening to him sets me on fire. It's like my soul is screaming from within that it knows him and he's exactly what I've been missing. He's here to fill that lonely spot nothing ever has. We're going to take on the world together. He'll be my protector, my other half, my companion, my lover. We'll take care of each other. My heartbeat echoes through my ears and I try to not yell at him though I feel like I'm underwater.

"Hi, Emmett. I'd love that." I can't stop fidgeting or looking into his eyes. Somewhere in me is an educated, well-spoken girl who's talked to thousands of people, but she seems to be preoccupied with the gorgeous man in front of me. "I think I'll be in the fellowship hall to answer questions." He smiles and nods.

"Oh, I know! I heard Carlisle tell us all that during announcements. I meant afterwards. I can take you to lunch and we can talk about all the details."

"The details?" His smile keeps getting wider and my face keeps getting redder as my heart pitter patters faster and faster with his every word.

"Yeah. Like when you leave to go back and what I need to do to be with you?" I blink and try to catch my breath to answer him but I'm interrupted.

"Please take your seats and welcome Ms. Rosalie Hale as she tells us about her work in the mission field," says Pastor Cullen.

Emmett places his hand on my arm to turn me and I see the word _hope_ tattooed on his wrist in a delicate flowing script that on anyone else would look feminine, but the faded word looks like a part of him. Like it belongs. "You better get up there. I'll catch you after service. It's great to meet you."

Slowly, I make my way to the pulpit, focusing on the large wooden cross on the wall, trying not to fall over. I stand in dress of baby pink lace and talk to a crowd in black leather cuts about how helping one woman earn money changes the lives of her family and over time a community, and over decades it could change a country. I tell them that hope changes lives and understand it in an all new way. Like a blind man seeing for the first time, I get it.

I find him in the crowd, smile back at him, and feel hope. Hope for something better than I could have ever dreamed of.

Motorcycle riding never looked appealing until now. Until seeing him and this congregation and knowing I need to be a part of this. I know I'm not in appropriate attire, but if he'll let me, I'll be taking my first ride to lunch, to feel closer to this amazing group of people.

I can feel his excitement in the way he's watching me. He yells out "Amen" when I speak of the women who have turned their lives around. His encouragement is making me soar already. I could speak for hours just to watch and feel his response.

This tiniest glimmer of what could be fills me with a joy I've never known. Here in this moment, between the cross and the cuts, our destiny begins.

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